ARLINGTON, Tex. — As Manny Pacquiao dispatched another welterweight contender in the easy manner of a sparring session, the talk turned immediately and emphatically to Floyd Mayweather Jr. As expected. Once again.

On Saturday night in Cowboys Stadium, Pacquiao defeated Joshua Clottey by unanimous decision to retain his World Boxing Organization welterweight championship. He pummeled Clottey’s ribs and midsection. He turned Clottey into a punching bag of bruised and battered muscles.

Afterward, the spotlight swung back toward Mayweather. Pacquiao’s trainer, Freddie Roach, implored Mayweather to drop his demands for blood testing. He said Pacquiao had mimicked Mayweather’s fighting style during sparring, making fun of perhaps his most difficult opponent.

Roach said of that style, “We will crush it.”

The fight that boxing fans demand looms, larger than ever. Because Pacquiao continues to dismiss all challengers, except Mayweather. On Saturday, Pacquiao essentially won his semifinal, leaving Mayweather, who fights Shane Mosley on May 1 in Las Vegas, to win his bout before negotiations between boxing’s two best fighters can resume.

“We’re ready to fight him any time,” Pacquiao said of Mayweather, before landing his hardest punch of the night, adding, “I don’t think he’s ready to fight.”

In this bout, Clottey boxed defensively, conservatively, as if unable to summon an attack. He threw 399 punches to Pacquiao’s 1,231. In the seventh round, Clottey managed to bruise Pacquiao under his right eye, but Pacquiao remained on the offensive, stalking Clottey, landing body shot after body shot.

The question lingered. When would Clottey let his hands go and unleash his superior strength and size? When would he, you know, fight?

Clottey opened up occasionally in the later rounds, but by then it was too late. By then, Pacquiao had dispatched another challenger. By then, cries for Mayweather-Pacquiao had already begun to echo across the stadium.

“He has great speed,” Clottey said of Pacquiao. “It was difficult for me to handle that.”

The fight had a surreal premise: an African and a Filipino fighting in Texas, the birthplace of Top Rank Boxing and, fittingly, the Cowboys’ owner, Jerry Jonesa.

The fighters entered the ring to deafening noise and an electric atmosphere.

Clottey danced. Pacquiao stalked into his corner, bowed, prayed, then climbed the ropes, smiling at the masses. Nervous? No. He had spent the previous two hours watching NBA basketball on television.

This being football country, the crowd swelled with NFL players, ex-players, coaches, ex-coaches, even owners. It included Jimmy Johnson, the retired coach, and Woody Johnson, the Jets’ owner, along with a bevy of former Cowboys: Deion Sanders, Roger Staubach, Troy Aikman, Barry Switzer.

Early on, it was Clottey, the bigger, stronger fighter, who landed the bigger shots. But it was Pacquiao, the skilled technician, who appeared to win most, if not all, of the early rounds, as Clottey treated each punch as precious, thrown only on special occasions.

Clottey managed to slow the pace through the middle rounds, but Pacquiao continued to attack, landing combinations. He controlled the fight early, controlled it late, the outcome all but certain.

Afterward, Pacquiao said: “It was not an easy fight. It was hard. I felt his power.”

Just before noon Saturday, Pacquiao and staff members assembled for Mass at the exhibition center adjacent to their hotel. They sang hymns and said prayers and received communion, while fans snapped pictures with their cell phones. Pacquiao worshipped God, while hundreds worshipped him, a peaceful moment to conclude a kumbaya-style camp.